Image
by Shawen A. Greer
Summary: A new case brings Mulder face to face with a mysterious stranger who forces him to deal with his secret desires, as well as revealing some of Scully's.


Title: Image  
Author: Shawen A. Greer  
Rating: R  
Classification: MSR, some UST to RST, mild angst  
Summary: A new case brings Mulder face to face with a  
mysterious stranger who forces him to deal with his secret  
desires as well as revealing some of Scully's as well.  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to put this???? You already know  
the X-Files belongs to CC, 1013, and Fox right? Well, if not,  
you do now.  
Distribution: Anywhere as long as my name and email stay  
attached, but please ask first.  
Feedback: I love feedback!!!!! Please do!   
shawen@altavista.com.  
Or check out my website for my other stories as well as some of  
my favorites by other authors. The Hall of 'X'  
www.geocities.com/Area51/Quasar/8840. And if you visit, it  
would make my day if you would sign the Guestbook! :)  
  
  
  
-Apartment 42   
Thursday 8:40 pm  
  
It had been a particular exhausting day of reports and paperwork,  
and Mulder had welcomed the thought of coming home and  
taking a long hot shower. He loosened his tie from the collar  
that had restrained it all day and paused to rub some of the  
tension out of his neck. Sequentially, the remainder of his suit  
was then thrown casually into the chair next to his bed leaving  
him only in the comfort of his boxers. Feeling hungrier than he  
remembered being, he decided to delay the shower for leftover  
pizza and made his way to the kitchen.  
  
After retrieving the white cardboard box and the six-pack of Sam  
Adams that he had purchased on the way home, he took his usual  
place on the couch. It took only a few minutes of quickly  
scanning the viewing possibilities on TV, for him to decide on  
the History Channel and their documentary on ancient Greece.  
  
At the end of the program and his fourth beer, he proceeded to  
the shower he had postponed earlier welcoming the even further  
relaxation. He turned the knobs releasing the water in a  
pounding force and stepped behind the curtain into the quickly  
mounting blanket of steam. A sigh of release escaped him as he  
stood motionless, allowing the hot water to knead his tired  
muscles and his thoughts as always turned to Scully.  
  
He enjoyed the fantasy world he had created in which she was  
his lover and his ultimate erotic fantasy. In his heart he loved  
her, as he could no other, and his desire for her was painfully  
hard to control when he was close to her. The intoxicating smell  
of her perfume and the way she bit her bottom lip taunted him  
daily, and he had narrowly escaped surrender many times.  
  
The heat and the steam worked their magic and eased the  
transition from reality to a dream state almost fully allowing his  
fantasy to take shape. He imagined her naked body joining him,  
taking his wet body in her arms from behind and touching soft  
kisses between his shoulders. Her small delicate fingers gently  
caress his taut stomach before moving upward to play with the  
hair on his chest as it rises and falls, his breath coming in  
staggered gasps. Her breath is cool to his hot skin as her tongue  
traces his spine sending uncontrollable shivers traveling through  
his body. Her hips press up against him as her hands travel back  
down, further this time, causing him to whisper her name in a  
low moan that seems to excite her, causing her hands to become  
faster and stronger. Unable to control the fire ignited now low in  
his belly, he takes her in his arms and kisses her transferring the  
passion in his own body to her.  
  
Mulder snapped himself back to reality with a shake of his head  
as he cooled the temperature of the water pelting his excited  
flesh. He struggled to regain control over his pounding heart, his  
breath in shallow pants in the rapture of his fantasy. He refused  
to ever let his mind take over beyond those initial touches not  
wishing to cheapen her, or his love for her with the same lustful  
thoughts provoked by pornographic material that he reveled in at  
times. She was so far above that, and his desire for her was only  
an extension of the deep-rooted love that he had for her. His  
thoughts were meant to be an enhancement of what he hoped  
would be his future, not a cheapening of his longing for her.   
  
After a few moments, he re-adjusted the water to a more humane  
temperature, and quickly followed his mundane showering ritual.   
He turned the knobs for the final time and slid the curtain back to  
reveal the envelopment of steam concealing the doorway and  
other details of the small room. He stood for a moment, the  
water dripping from his hair and his wet skin, racing down each  
curve of his body as he again sighed, trying to complete the  
exorcism of her vision from his mind.  
  
He dried himself off, the towel now as warm as the air around  
him, and wiped his reflection into the clouded mirror. He  
wrapped the blue towel around his waist, remarking silently that  
it matched the blue of her eyes, and removed his toothbrush from  
the usual spot on the wall.  
  
After brushing his teeth, he returned once again to his bedroom,  
pulled on his boxers, and climbed under the covers of his still  
unmade bed. He turned out the light and arranged the extra  
pillow snugly next to him, while uttering a silent prayer that it  
would some day be Scully in his arms instead of the cold, lifeless  
form he held every night.  
  
  
  
--Basement office J. Edgar Hoover Building   
Friday 7:45 am  
  
Thanks to the assistance of Sam Adams and a shower hot enough  
to induce fatigue, Fox Mulder had slept peacefully in his dreams  
and was now anxiously awaiting the arrival of his partner to  
discuss the new case they had just been assigned.  
  
His wait ended as Scully entered the room, cheerful and smiling.   
"Good morning Mulder, isn't it a beautiful day?"  
  
"It would seem that spring has sprung wouldn't it," he smiled in  
return, "the flowers in bloom, the buds on the trees, the birds and  
the bees oh wait, that's something else."  
  
Her blue eyes sparkled as she raised an eyebrow in sarcasm  
shaking her head in retort to the typical innuendo she had grown  
accustomed to. He watched her as she made her way to her desk  
to set about her various tasks for the day, noticing every  
movement with great detail to add to the collection of images  
and memories in his head. Her hair had that little "bounce" in it  
today that he loved, and it softly framed her porcelain skin. Her  
long black skirt stopped just short of her ankles, and flowed  
along her small but shapely figure, enhanced further by the  
tailored jacket that just fell to the curve of her hips. He could  
feel his breath quicken slightly as he looked at her, the ability to  
swallow becoming more difficult as he watched her casually  
push her hair behind her ear.   
  
" Muse, tell me the deeds of golden Aphrodite the Cyprian, who  
stirs up sweet passion in the gods and subdues the tribes of mortal  
men and birds that fly in air and all the many creatures that the  
dry land rears, and all the sea: all these love the deeds of  
rich-crowned Cytherea." His Homeric quote was meant to introduce  
their case, but seemed appropriate directed at her.   
  
Her attention was quickly gained at the eloquence of his words.   
"Excuse me?"  
  
"How's your mythology Scully?" he asked as he walked over  
and leaned on the corner of her organized desk, not really  
expecting an answer, handed her the case file, and began his  
synopsis not waiting for her to read it.  
  
"A rare collection of paintings depicting the gods and goddesses  
of ancient cultures, donated by Sir Francis Walter Reed, arrived  
yesterday for a special exhibit at the Museum of Art to mark its  
gala opening of the Deity Wing, set aside for all manner of art  
depicting religion and deity, etc., etc." She leaned back in the  
chair and crossed her arms across her front in preparation of a  
long dissertation, her head slightly tilted to the side.   
  
He raised his eyebrows in mock offense and continued the  
details of the case. "Some time between the hours of 4:30 pm  
yesterday evening and 6:30 am this morning, the image of the  
Greek goddess Aphrodite, known also as Venus to the Roman  
culture disappeared."  
  
She took a moment to process the information, expressionless  
and unmoving, preparing her thoughts before speaking them.   
With a deep breath and a shift of her weight in the chair, her  
brows knit as she began her rebuttal in her normal fashion.   
"Disappeared."  
  
He returned to his chair and propped his feet up on his desk,  
unconcerned about the other files now under his shoes, and  
locked his hands behind his head waiting for her to sort out the  
information presented.  
  
"Mulder, would you like to tell me why suddenly the theft of a  
priceless piece of artwork has now become our jurisdiction?"  
  
"I don't recall mentioning that the painting was stolen." he  
retorted with the smug look he always wore at the failure of  
mentioning an important detail.  
  
"You said that the painting was missing. I am assuming that you  
are not of the suspicion that it has been misplaced."  
  
"I never said that the painting disappeared Scully, only that the  
image of Aphrodite had disappeared," he paused, "from the  
painting."  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
--Museum of Art   
Friday 9:00 am  
  
The resonant sound of Scully's heels danced on the gray marble  
walls of the foyer, elegant with its brass trim and ornately  
detailed tapestries. The creative vision, it seemed, had been the  
likeness of a fairy tale castle, decorated for the ball, with the  
crests of the noble families of the kingdom proudly displayed.   
At the far end of the foyer, framed by the carved likeness of  
pillars, was a large entrance with a blue tapestry displaying  
"Deity Wing" in gold script. They showed their badges to the  
guard at information desk, to which he politely nodded and  
motioned in the direction of the wing entrance where a slightly  
older gentleman in a gray suit now waited for them.  
  
When they reached him, he extended his hand to each agent  
respectively, introducing himself as Brent Collins, the museum  
curator. He was politely formal with his British introduction as  
he escorted the agents into the hall of the exhibit. Scully lagged  
slightly behind the two men observing their similarities. The  
charcoal gray suits walked shoulder to shoulder, each a clone of  
the other, aside from the touch of silver in the dark hair that  
topped the one.  
  
"So Agent Mulder, they tell me that you are the authority when it  
comes to the unexplainable."  
  
Mulder couldn't help but smile at the man's accent that subtly  
reminded him of a Tim Curry character. "I tend to be a little  
more open to the possibilities than others I suppose."  
  
The first works to be presented in the long tranquil hall were of  
the Christ as well as his Blessed Mother, with paintings  
representing the crucifixion as well as various visions accounted  
throughout the world.  
  
Mr. Collins halted suddenly, facing them with concerned eyes  
and a knit brow. "Agents, I have no idea how to explain to you  
what you are about to see or not see as it were. Its just the  
damndest thing!"  
  
As Mulder prepared to further question the mystified man, his  
attention was diverted to his partner who stood in an odd stance,  
mouth open in a silent attempt to speak. Her panicked eyes  
retained their wide stare on the wall in front of her, as her  
fingertips lightly rested on her chest, just below her cross.   
Mulder let his gaze drift over the curator's shoulder to the  
painting bewitching his partner, and the flames surrounding the  
heart struck a spark of remembrance. "Maybe we'll just have to  
see for ourselves, Mr. Collins." he answered as he gently tugged  
at Scully's black sleeve to break the spell and lead her away  
from her memories.  
  
The Grecian display was situated near the end of the exhibit, and  
Scully noticed the dramatic change as they passed from the  
darker, fanciful style of the multi-limbed gods of the Hindu, to  
the romantic style of the Greco-Romans. One long painting on  
the far gray wall, however, did not conform to the layout so  
elegantly portrayed in the other paintings. Though the rich blues  
and violets beautifully complimented the illusion of glimmering  
stars in the background, it was obvious that it lacked some sort of  
focus to the eye. It lacked the resolution of placement, either of  
an object or a person.  
  
Mr. Collins stood aside and left the agents to their work,  
searching for evidence to unlock this mystery. Scully set about  
the tedious chore of analyzing the polished floor for anything  
that would substantiate her theory that the original painting was  
removed and a fraud left in it's place. The reasoning behind  
such an elaborate scheme she had not determined as of yet, but  
certainly it had to be a practical joke. Her search turned up  
empty discovering no footprints or particles of paint that would  
suggest a painting of that size being carried out, and certainly, it  
would have taken more than one person. It was at least six feet  
tall and three feet wide, not including the ornately carved  
wooden frame surrounding it that added another five inches on  
each side.  
  
She returned to the side of a rather intense Mulder, his mind  
processing every possible scenario to come to some rational  
conclusion. However, what was usually considered rational to  
Mulder was often quite irrational to anyone else, and this case  
was to be no exception. He stood close to the painting, his eyes  
focused on some far off place, as he looked at the painting rather  
by touch, slowly running his fingers over the painted canvas.   
  
Scully watched curiously as Mulder's fingers began to trace an  
invisible line around the canvas. A pattern began to form and it  
seemed that he traced the apparent outline of a shapely woman.  
  
Mulder turned to her with that sparkle in his eyes and that  
excited schoolboy expression that usually meant he had found  
something to confirm his theory.   
  
Scully took her "doubters" stance with arms folded tightly across  
her chest and her head tilted slightly to the side. Her eyes  
revealed her questions before she could vocalize them and he  
interrupted her after "Mulder, you don't "  
  
"She was here Scully." came the reply and he began scanning the  
room looking for the answers to the new questions that were now  
forming in his mind.  
  
"Mulder," she began, but then decided to take a different  
approach in her questioning. "If she was here Mulder, where did  
she go? There were no footprints or traces of anything found on  
the floor and the security cameras show no evidence of any one,  
or any movement for that matter, on the surveillance tapes."  
  
Before Mulder could offer his theory on the subject, the silence  
was broken by the fluttering of wings descending from  
somewhere above them, and they watched as a bird glided over  
Mulder's shoulder and landed on one of the sculpted ledges  
surrounding the room.   
  
Mr. Collins spoke up for the first time since their investigation  
began. "If you'll excuse me, I need to notify the guards about  
this so they can take steps to get this bird out of the museum  
before it before the pieces are ruined." He quickly exited the  
exhibit and the two agents stood there alone, except for the  
cooing bird above them.  
  
"Scully, that's a dove." He retained that childlike fascination  
that had started with the imaginary tracing, his eyes never  
leaving the white bird above him.  
  
"Yes, Mulder, it is. Now, would you like to explain to me how a  
painted image simply walked off of its canvas and left the  
building, eluding the museum guards and the security cameras?"  
  
"Well, Scully," his voice was low and methodical as he analyzed  
every word before it was uttered, his eyes never leaving the  
ledge above. "What if she never left the building?" He stood on  
a nearby bench, his long body leaning as far as he could,  
attempting to get a better look at the dove. "And what if she  
never walked?"   
  
Scully took a moment to let the preposterous notion sink into her  
logical brain before she challenged such a suggestion.  
  
"Scully, hear me out." He jumped off the bench and took her  
arms in each of his hands. Her heart skipped a beat at his touch  
and she swallowed hard to maintain her composure as that  
irresistible sparkle shown in his eyes with the intensity of  
lightning. "Throughout the course of history, the goddess  
Aphrodite has been illustrated as taking many forms in the  
presence of mortals, the most common being the form of a dove.   
A white dove Scully, much like the one before you."  
  
They simultaneously raised their eyes to the ledge above them,  
and before another word could be said to confirm or deny the  
possibility of the embodiment of a painting come to life, the  
suspect in question left its roost and quickly flew down the  
corridor with Mulder in pursuit. Scully followed, but was no  
match for her partner's long stride, and she entered the main  
rotunda in time to see the dove gracefully fly out the door as a  
surprised patron entered. She heard Mulder make his apologies  
as he nearly knocked the man over and proceeded out the door to  
continue the chase. She followed outside, finding him sitting on  
the steps, bewildered and catching his breath.  
  
"Mulder," she began, aware of the sarcasm that came from her  
lips, trying not to sound patronizing, "that dove probably got into  
the museum the same way that it just got out. I'm sure it was  
just an odd coincidence."  
  
His half-hearted nod was for her benefit alone as he slipped  
again into his thoughts, one arm crossed in front of him  
providing stability for the other, as his thumb tapped  
contemplative beats just above his upper lip.  
  
Scully waited for these captured moments, when all his  
surroundings faded as he slipped into his private abyss. These  
were the times that she allowed herself to look at him. Focusing  
on each feature one by one, adding it to the collection of mental  
images she had accumulated over the years. She was captured  
first by his brilliant mind, but to say that his fit and supple body  
and handsome face had not intensified the desire she had for him  
would be a gross understatement.  
  
For Fox Mulder was a desirable man. She alone knew of the  
countless nights in the darkness wanting desperately to go to  
him, longing to feel his body pressed up against her, his breath  
sending shivers through her body as it slid like satin over her  
skin. The thought of his kiss intrigued and excited her. Would it  
be sweet and gentle as a whisper on her lips, or breathless and  
passionate stirring the fire inside her until it consumed them  
both? Lost in the reverie of Mulder's kiss, she jumped at the  
startling reality of his hand covering hers.  
  
"Are you ok, Scully?"   
  
"Huh?" she answered, unable to quickly compose anything else.  
  
"Are you feeling ok? You're a little flushed." Mulder placed a  
tender hand on her forehead and reported that she did not have a  
fever.  
  
"I'm fine, Mulder. I think I 'm just hungry." she lied. "It's a  
nice day, how about we have lunch at the park before we go back  
to the office. We can discuss the case further there."  
  
Mulder smiled at the thought of a spring picnic with Scully.   
"Does an iced tea go with that offer Miss. Scully?"  
  
"It's Agent, and you may have whatever you would like you're  
buying!" she flashed him a quick but sarcastic smile, and was on  
her way down the steps to the car.  
  
He sat for a brief moment pondering her retort, and then with the  
urgency of a schoolboy, bounded down the steps behind her two  
at a time.  
  
--Apartment 42   
Friday 6:05 pm  
  
The fading sun blazed through the window in an almost eerie  
glow as Mulder came in, his arms heavy with case files and thick  
hardcover books from the Bureau. After their short picnic of  
hotdogs and soft drinks he had never known Dana Scully to eat  
hot dogs, she must have been hungry she took the copies of the  
surveillance tapes to the visual experts at the crime lab. Mulder  
had searched for every possible reference to the goddess  
Aphrodite in past case files, the extensive Bureau library, and  
had even managed to find some rather interesting sites on the  
Internet.  
  
He had found nothing conclusive to support his theory regarding  
the dove, but decided to go over the material again, alone with a  
pint of Lo Mein. The pile of references hit the coffee table with  
a thud, and he threw his jacket over the back of the chair  
proceeding to the kitchen for a fork and hopefully a drink from  
his barren refrigerator.  
  
Scully had left the office before him on her way to meet a  
professor at The University of Maryland who specialized in  
ancient cultures, and reported on her way out what they had  
already known. The visual enhancement gurus found no more  
on the tapes than could be seen at the initial viewing this  
morning. The only lead they had was the dove, and even Mulder  
knew it was a stretch.  
  
It had been almost an hour now, and the deepening purple sky  
indicated that the sun was in the final stages of its departure.   
With an aggravated sigh he sank back into the sofa to rest his  
tired back, his arms flaccid by his sides and his head leaning  
back enough to rest his neck in the soft support of the cushion.   
His heavy eyelids closed for what was only to be a moment, and  
he sat unmoving in the silence of the sounds around him. He  
focused on the low hum of the aquarium filter almost drowning  
out a light scrape as something brushed against his window. His  
neighbor next door dropped what sounded like a bowling ball on  
apparently his foot by the flood of obscenities that followed.   
Mulder couldn't help the slight smile that formed on his face at  
the thought of the man hopping around and swearing. He didn't  
wish for the man to be seriously hurt, it was just that he didn't  
particularly care for the man. He was condescending and  
uncouth, and apartment walls being what they were, horribly  
cruel to his wife on many occasions. Served the bastard right for  
a change. As far as he knew the man had never been physically  
abusive, but as Mulder knew from his own parents, sometimes  
the mental abuse and emotional stress that one partner causes for  
another can be even more damaging.   
  
While Mulder analyzed the probability of eventual punishment  
of evil, it occurred to him that the odd scratching was still at his  
window. He opened his eyes to see what could be making the  
odd sound, unprepared for what awaited him.   
  
A small white dove was perched on the ledge outside in the  
fading shadows of dusk, lightly scratching at the frame. Logic  
told him that it was foolish to believe that this small feathered  
creature could be the same one he had seen earlier today,  
however, Mulder being quite illogical by nature, knew that this  
may be the only chance he would ever get to substantiate his  
theory. Afraid to startle the bird to flight, he slowly and  
carefully opened the window and was amazed to see the delicate  
wings flutter gracefully through the opening and land quietly on  
the sofa. He turned to again lock the window, but upon feeling  
the cool spring breeze drift past him into the stagnant apartment  
decided against it in favor of opening another.  
  
That task accomplished, he set out to discover the secrets of this  
dove, only to marvel at the site before him as he turned to go  
back to his mountain of research. On his sofa now was the most  
beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She just sat there  
reading through his files; quite intrigued, quite elegant, and quite  
naked if not for the flowing rose colored silk wrap that  
strategically seemed to cover her more private parts. Her hair  
cascaded in blonde curls over her bronze skin to her hips, though  
it hardly hid the roundness of her bare breasts.  
  
Mulder fell back against his desk in awe, his hand managing to  
catch a stack of papers sending them flying as if blown by a  
tremendous wind. The commotion drew the attention of the  
beautiful stranger who turned to look at him with a smile of  
amusement.  
  
"You seem surprised Fox William," she spoke. "Surely you  
knew I would come to you."  
  
"I guess I've grown accustomed to the traditional knock on the  
door more so than beautiful women flying through my window  
masquerading as a dove." He tried to keep his sharp wit, but  
standing here in front of this woman, this goddess, left him  
uncharacteristically speechless.   
  
"I've been watching you for a very long time Fox." Rising as  
gracefully as she had entered, she approached him with slow  
determined steps. Her wrap was pulled around her, the flowing  
silk enhancing every curve, and her hair shone as if it were  
reflecting the sun. There was a fire in her emerald eyes that  
burned with truth, mesmerizing him in her gaze.  
  
She touched his cheek with the palm of her hand and gently  
stroked his skin with her thumb. "Poor Fox. So much pain."  
was all she said.  
  
He felt his eyes growing heavy, unsure if it was just exhaustion  
from a long day or if it was the loving touch of the goddess.   
Remembering his duty to this case, he deftly took her hand in his  
own and willed his eyes to open, seeing the unshed tears that  
filled her eyes.  
  
She twisted her hand in his grasp and laced her fingers with his,  
while taking his other hand and doing the same. He stood  
unmoving but receptive to her observation and confession of his  
heart to which he had locked away long ago.  
  
"Fox, if we deny love that is given to us and refuse to give love  
because we fear pain or loss, our lives will be empty. That is the  
greater loss."   
  
Finding his voice, his response came as a broken whisper. "Love  
is no stranger to me." He breathed a sigh of despair as he  
released her hands and stared out the window looking into the  
darkness that had now settled again over his world. "However, it  
has never quite been a friend."  
  
"No, it hasn't." she agreed. "However, you must realize that  
love, as with life is a lesson to be learned from and cherished. I  
only wish I could have spared you the heartache of Phoebe. I  
tried to dissuade you, but you were quite determined back then.   
Though her love was strong, it was not what was chosen for  
you."   
  
Mulder's head snapped to full attention at the sound of that  
name, a name that had haunted him for a very long time.   
"Phoebe was capable of many things, but I can assure you that  
love was not one of them."  
  
Her eyes soothed him with their compassion as she continued her  
tale. "Quite the contrary Fox, Phoebe was quite consumed by  
you. I believe to some extent she still is today. It was I that  
interceded there." She again gently took his hand and led him to  
the sofa to attempt the explanation that he so desperately  
searched for. "Centuries ago, in the age of the poets, mortals like  
yourself discovered our existence and unable to understand our  
purpose, presumed us all powerful and in control of the universe.   
And so, the gods and goddesses were born. Though it is true that  
the world is guided and ultimately controlled by a Supreme  
Power, we are more like muses of nature and mankind. We do  
not control things, only manipulate them a little to the greater  
good of all."  
  
It was now Mulder who was on the side of the skeptics; however,  
he could offer no logical explanation. "And you manipulated  
Phoebe."  
  
"I'm afraid so," she confessed with her eyes revealing sadness  
that Mulder felt must have been caused by such an action on her  
part. "She was not the one that was chosen for you, but I did not  
intend for it to be so devastating."  
  
The silence was deafening as she gave him some time alone in  
his thoughts to quietly reflect on the relationship that had scarred  
him so long ago. Phoebe had left him hardened to the prospect  
of love and as a result, he kept a certain part of himself distanced  
and safe in every relationship. However, that was before his  
little red headed spy came to him and he learned that love was  
indeed possible, though for now it only inhabited his dreams.   
  
"There is much I have to tell you Fox," she said, "so much for  
you to learn. I am here to tell you all you desire to know."  
  
The look in her eyes that accompanied her words was like  
electricity in his veins. He did not have to question how she  
knew his desires, for there was no doubt that she saw through his  
carefully created facade into the truth in his heart. Desperately  
seeking an escape he thought of the two remaining bottles of  
beer in the refrigerator and excused himself to retrieve a much  
needed drink, if only because the beckoning ale was degrees  
cooler than his body temperature.  
  
He remembered his manners as he stumbled clumsily toward the  
kitchen, unsure of what he could possible offer a goddess. "Can  
I get you anything or anything?" he asked. Once again he  
received that beautiful smile and she lazily shook her head  
declining his offer. He nodded his response and turned the  
corner and walked into the welcoming kitchen in to compose  
himself.  
  
Her intentions formulated long before her arrival, she carefully  
slid his cell phone from the pocket of his suit jacket laid  
haphazardly on the arm of the sofa. Her long, thin fingers  
carefully pushed the well-worn buttons and she listened to the  
methodical ringing until the anticipated answer of "Scully "  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
--Scully's Apartment--   
Friday 7:20 pm  
  
The last of the remaining water drained from the tub in a  
symphony of sloshes as she roughly shook the water from her  
auburn hair with the towel. Pulling her robe tighter around her,  
she turned off the light and lazily drifted to her bedroom and  
dressed in her favorite pajamas that had been given to her by Bill  
and Tara last year for Christmas. Dreamily lethargic, she sat on  
the bed with her legs folded in front of her pulling the brush  
through her slick, wet hair.  
  
Her cell phone was on the fourth ring before she finally resolved  
to answer the intrusion. "Scully "  
  
Her greeting was answered with empty silence, though she could  
tell that someone was on the line. "Hello?"  
  
She started to end the connection when she suddenly  
remembered a drugged and vulnerable Mulder once calling for  
help and her mistaking it for a prank call. "Mulder?"  
  
Again there was silence. "Mulder is that you?"  
  
A loud thud interrupted the uneasy silence, shortly followed by  
several clicks and the hum of a lonely dial tone. She dialed the  
programmed number to his cell phone without hesitation only to  
hear that he must be outside the calling area or once again had  
not charged his battery. She was almost certain that it had to be  
Mulder that called, but she was unsure where he was. So, since  
logic suggested that he was most likely home, she again pushed  
familiar buttons and waited for the rings that did not come.   
Instead she listened as the unfamiliar voice of a recording told  
her that the number had been temporarily disconnected.  
  
The uneasiness in her stomach grew until the steady beat of her  
pounding heart echoed in her ears and she had the terrible feeling  
that something was wrong. So, she quickly traded her light blue  
pajamas for jeans and a white t-shirt, her small hands  
feeling slow and inept as she struggled with the laces of her  
running shoes. After scooping up her keys from their usual spot  
on the entry table, gun holstered under her jacket, she cursed  
under her breath at her lack of dexterity as she fumbled now with  
the locks on the door. The air was thick and thunder threatened  
in the distance as she jumped in her car with the pounding of her  
heart in her ears and silent prayers uttered to heaven that she  
wasn't too late.  
  
--Apartment 42--   
Friday 7:45pm  
  
His cell phone hit the coffee table with a dull thud as he  
continued his walk on the invisible path through the small  
apartment. "Dammit! It's not like Scully to not answer her cell  
phone." A moment later he added, "Me maybe, but not her." He  
had attempted to call her house as well, but had only reached the  
answering machine. Feeling a little more comfortable now with  
his guest, he was anxious to share the discovery with Scully.  
  
"Fox, don't worry. I'm not going anywhere just yet, and I am  
looking forward to meeting her." Mulder missed the devious  
flash in her captivating eyes, not yet aware of her intentions.   
"She's probably decided to wash up before it storms and is in the  
shower as we speak."  
  
Silently he responded that Scully did not take showers most of  
the time, she enjoyed baths. That was enough for the visions to  
invade his aroused mind. He could see her leaning back, low in  
the deep tub, her auburn hair piled high on her head in rich  
contract to the fluffy white bubbles at the level of her shoulders.   
Her eyes were closed as the sound of Mozart washed away the  
tension from her mind and he desired nothing more than to join  
her at the side and wash away the tension from the rest of her  
shapely body. However, what he voiced as he pulled himself  
away again from his fantasy was, "They weren't calling for  
storms tonight."   
  
"No they weren't. Not until I got here that is." She rose from  
the couch and tossed her hair in a triumphant flip behind her  
shoulder, exposing one round breast behind the sheer material of  
her wrap. "Zeus is mistaken to believe that I can be impressed  
like a common mortal girl."  
  
His breath caught in his throat as she sauntered toward him as if  
approaching her prey, and he tried desperately to focus his eyes  
on hers and not on the smooth skin that taunted him. His neck  
tingled as her breath drifted across his skin, only inches away,  
and he felt lost in the expanse of the room, as she slowly ran her  
hand down the length of his arm. Upon reaching his hand, she  
took it in her own and slowly and methodically raised it until his  
palm met the warmth of her breast. The sensation was dizzying  
as she slowly cupped his hand around the soft mound. A small  
cry escaped him as he began to drown in the greatness of his  
need.   
  
He fought to control the urge that coursed through his body and  
gently removed his hand and stepped back, his eyes remaining  
closed to block out the sight of the desirable woman before him.   
  
"I'm sorry," he stammered, "But I can't."  
  
A pleased smile formed at the corners of her mouth, "Your heart  
belongs to another doesn't it Fox?"  
  
Not waiting for his answer she returned to the sofa. "The storm  
will be here soon, why don't you go shower too." she almost  
purred.  
  
Still unable to find his voice, he nodded his agreement to her  
suggestion and retreated to the bathroom, convinced that tonight  
he would be unable to stop his usual fantasy, as it would again  
play out in the hot stream of his desires.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Her green eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she watched him  
practically run from her presence to seek sanctuary behind the  
closed door beyond. So far everything was falling perfectly in  
place and he had reacted to her advances just the way she had  
hoped. Her test had been unknowingly passed as he resisted the  
temptations of his flesh holding true to the unspoken love that  
she knew was in his heart. She could hear the faint sound of the  
shower as it started down the hall and felt herself sinking into her  
transformation, her skin already fading into a soft shade of  
porcelain white. She went to the front door and opened it  
slightly, just enough to be noticeably ajar, before following his  
path down the hallway.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The shower wall felt almost icy against his feverish body as he  
leaned back and closed his eyes, willing his need to subside. But  
the images of Scully would not leave him, and he was lost again  
in his desire for her so much that he didn't hear the latch of the  
door.  
  
Having left her wrap outside, she padded quietly toward the  
closed curtain stopping only for a moment to admire the auburn  
hair in the mist-covered mirror. Pleased with the likeness, she  
carefully slid the curtain to the side, allowing a cloud of steam to  
escape with its absence.  
  
As he was still unaware of her presence, she took a moment to  
observe him, his body and spirit naked before her. His pained  
expression and slumped stature revealed his inward despair, and  
she wasn't sure if the streams falling down his flushed cheeks  
were from his closed eyes or from the pelting flow above him.   
  
Through the course of her time and her role in the universe, she  
had never before been so drawn to a man or wanted so much for  
his happiness. His despair ignited her compassion and she set  
about to make things right with a newfound determination,  
secretly wishing she were able to foresee the outcome of her  
elaborate scheme.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The touch of her hand against his chest was so soft that he  
disregarded it at first as a trick of his imagination, but the  
unmistakable feel of her lips pressing soft kisses to his dampened  
chest startled him out of his dream and into the reality of his  
fantasy. With a startled jolt he grabbed the hands that rested at  
his shoulders and forced the intruder back slightly, expecting to  
look into the green eyes of his goddess, unprepared for the blue  
eyes of his Scully.  
  
Amazed at the incredible sight before him, and too exhilarated to  
question, he pulled her tightly against him, her name barely more  
than a breath escaping from his lips. The feeling of their bodies  
entwined together was intoxicating, and his need for her quickly  
became an insatiable hunger. His hands caressed her wet skin as  
her kisses moved slowly down his chest to his stomach, and he  
felt his body shake with anticipation.   
  
The sensation overtook him in a wave of electricity, and his  
knees almost buckled under the intensity. Unable to be silent  
any longer as he drowned in this passionate sea, he cried out  
"Scully!"  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Dana Scully pulled her car in front of the familiar apartment  
building and slammed the gear into park, not even waiting for  
the car to settle as she jumped out slamming the door behind her.   
After entering the building, she ran up the stairs two at a time,  
not willing to risk a second by waiting for the elevator.  
  
Upon reaching his floor she cautiously ran down the corridor,  
gun drawn, and fear filled her heart as she looked at his  
apartment door resting slightly ajar.   
  
Conditioned by her years in the F.B.I., she abruptly kicked the  
door the rest of the way open and jumped back to shield herself  
behind the adjoining wall. When greeted only by silence from  
the shadows beyond, she carefully entered and closed the door  
tightly behind her. She noticed that there appeared to be no signs  
of a struggle and his car had been parked outside, but he had not  
answered either phone on her continuous attempts to reach him  
during her drive here.  
  
After a few seconds she heard the distinctive sound of the  
shower down the hall. Immediately irritated at his  
unresponsiveness to two ringing phones and her own foolish race  
for nothing, she shoved her weapon back into its holster and  
turned on her heel to leave hoping to save herself further  
embarrassment. Her hand reached for the doorknob only to  
freeze as if icy fingers touched her back as she heard him cry for  
her from the distant room. Without a moments hesitation she  
was running down the hall toward his cry of "Scully!"  
  
She again drew her gun in preparation for whatever threat may  
lie ahead and threw open the bathroom door. "Mulder?"   
  
Fox Mulder's eyes opened instantly at the recognition of Scully's  
voice outside the curtain and he looked down in disbelief at the  
woman he held in his arms and the soft green eyes that met his  
own. Suddenly unable to breath in the hot, moist air that  
surrounded him, he pushed her away as his mind spun out of  
control, trying to quickly ascertain what had happened and with  
those answers form some logical explanation as to what was  
happening here. Unsure of what else to do, he peered through a  
small opening in the curtain just to be sure that she really was  
there.  
  
Her gun lowered slowly as her expression struggled somewhere  
between confusion and sadness, initially at his shocked face  
peering through at her and even more so at the revelation of the  
blonde haired woman who looked out behind him. Her eyes fell  
to the tile floor beneath her, unable to meet his again.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered softly, the knot in her throat  
making it impossible for her to speak. She left the small room  
closing the door closed behind her and moved down the hallway  
to escape her embarrassment and the heartbreak that crept around  
her. Unable to feel her legs carry her or her arms as they felt  
along the wall to steady her, her vision started to close in to a  
tunnel of black and she detoured her retreat to sink into his sofa  
in an attempt to regain her composure. She leaned forward  
slightly with her elbows resting on her knees trying to force air  
into her lungs, as her gun still rested in her numb hands. She  
tried to focus on the pattern of his worn carpet but soon she  
could no longer see because of the tears that burned her eyes.   
Feeling foolish for rushing to his rescue when he obviously was  
trying to avoid interruption, and even more foolish for her  
jealousy and tears, she wanted so badly to leave, but her shaking  
body would not comply.   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
"Damn!" he cursed out loud and hurried to rinse off the soap that  
moments before had been massaged on his skin with lingering  
and attentive hands, then turned off the water to end this fantasy  
turned nightmare.   
Placing a caring hand on his arm in an effort to calm him as she  
watched her well thought out plan begin to unravel, she tried to  
explain. "Fox," she began, but he quickly silenced her and  
pulled his arm away from her grasp.  
  
"What the hell were you doing?" he almost hissed at her, his  
eyes mixed with anger and pain, "Where do you get off playing  
with people?" He slid the curtain open and reached past her for  
the towel he had left on the edge of the sink.  
  
"You don't understand." she tried again to explain, knowing that  
his pain was so much greater than his anger.  
  
"I understand all I need to," remembering her confession about  
Phoebe as he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, the  
water still running down his body from his wet hair, unwilling to  
risk Scully getting too far away before he could catch her.  
"Haven't you done enough to hurt me for one lifetime?" and he  
was out the door without giving her a chance to respond. He  
didn't know what he could offer as an explanation for what had  
happened. To lie made him the perverted scoundrel that  
everyone perceived him to be, and to tell the truth forced his  
admission to Scully of his feelings for her.  
  
He ran into the living room planning to call to her from the  
window, hoping she was still in sight, and was completely  
unprepared for the sight of her sitting on his couch, and crying.   
Her tears were silent, though the site of her tears spoke to him  
louder than if she were yelling, and he knelt in front of her and  
removed the forgotten weapon from her hands.  
  
"Scully?" he spoke softly and lowered his head trying to look  
into her eyes, but her head remained down focused on the floor,  
unable or unwilling to look at him. He took her hands in his own  
and he pleaded again. "Scully, please look at me." he begged  
releasing only one hand and gently lifting her chin to force her to  
face him.   
  
She pulled her other hand from his grasp and quickly wiped the  
tears away that streamed down her cheeks, reddened by crying  
and embarrassment, but he had already seen them. "Mulder,"  
she started, unsure where to begin, "I'm sorry for just coming  
over, and I am terribly sorry that I you know back there." she  
finished unable to speak the words to recapture what had  
happened only minutes before. "It's just that I tried to call you  
back after you called me, and you didn't answer your cell phone,  
and you didn't answer your phone here, and I just thought  
that well, in any case I was obviously wrong. I'll be leaving  
now." She forced her weakened legs to move and carry her  
towards the door, wishing only to end this humiliation afraid to  
yet consider how she would again face him on Monday.  
  
"Scully, I didn't call you." he stated, now even more confused at  
all that was happening this evening.  
  
"It's ok, Mulder," she answered not daring to look back, "you  
must have hit my number by accident when you turned your  
phone off, that would obviously explain why you didn't answer  
when I called you back. Like I said, no problem. I'll see you  
Monday."   
  
Her hand was already opening the door as he ran over and pulled  
his cell phone from the pocket of his jacket still resting on the  
arm of the sofa. "Scully, my cell phone is still on." he held it up  
for her to see even though her back was still to him. "And, it  
doesn't say that I've missed any calls."  
Scully noisily expelled a deep breath, "Mulder, just drop it ok.  
I'll see you Monday." and with a nonchalant wave of her hand  
she added, " Carry on."  
  
"But, Scully, I didn't call you." he said the exasperation apparent  
in his voice. Didn't she believe him?  
  
In the aftermath of all that had just happened, why did he think  
that she gave a damn about his government issued cell phone.   
Typical Mulder, so concerned about the truth and the facts that  
he misses the obvious right in front of his face which in this case  
was her and how deeply she cared for him. Was he really so  
naive to life and affairs of the heart that he thought her tears were  
only from embarrassment? This time she turned to face him her  
irritation quickly building to anger. "Look Mulder," she began,  
but the tall, beautiful blonde stepped from the hallway and  
interrupted her, wearing to Scully's surprise not much more than  
she had been in the shower.   
  
"I called her." The goddess said, preparing the way to expose her  
plan. "I knew that you would come if you thought Fox to be in  
trouble."  
  
Scully stood silent her hand still resting on the doorknob and her  
mind quickly processing this information, apparent by the  
intense look on her face. "And who the hell are you?" she  
quipped angrily, demanding to know this woman's objective.  
  
It was Mulder who offered the answer. "Scully, meet Aphrodite,  
goddess of love, or at least muse of manipulation."  
  
His partner gave him a questioning look to which he only  
responded, "Scully," he lifted his hand to help better illustrate his  
tale, then lowered it again thinking before he blurted something  
out that he would regret later, "Don't even ask me right now, it's  
more complicated than I know where to start."  
  
The goddess slowly approached Scully. "Complicated don't be  
ridiculous, it couldn't be more simple. He wasn't with me,  
Dana, he was with you."  
  
At those words Mulder turned abruptly away from them, sighing  
a breath towards heaven and then pushing his fingers to his  
temples, his eyes closing as if lack of sight alone could block this  
scent out entirely. This was the crossroad where his life fell  
apart, and everything decent in his life that had any worth would  
be gone, shattered by the dream of a goddess. There was no  
saving this situation now, he cringed at the thought of her  
revelation. No, Dana, he didn't know that it was me, it was you  
he wanted to slam up against the shower wall and screw like an  
uncontrollable animal. Oh dear God, maybe he should just shoot  
himself now with the gun he so carefully took from her, it  
seemed a fitting end and it certainly could be no worse than  
facing Scully after his secret was known.  
  
He suddenly felt the need to be involved in this conversation, in  
fact, to take control of it. If Scully was to find out the truth of  
what was happening earlier, than she had to know the whole  
truth that he was in love with her, and her coming to him had  
been a dream come true. However, before he could say anymore  
his fate was sealed by his blonde intervention.  
  
"I can offer you clarity for your confusion, and give you the  
answers that your heart seeks." she whispered in Scully's ear  
and leaned carefully down placing a gentle kiss on the smaller  
woman's brow.   
  
The last thing she remembered was the feel of the stranger's soft  
kiss on her forehead before her mind was enveloped in a  
dizzying rush of images and thoughts. She found herself in a  
shower leaning against the cold tile wall, sharp in contrast to the  
hot water that danced over her skin. There was a slight rustle of  
the shower curtain to her left and she could somehow sense the  
presence of someone. Her eyes remained closed to her  
surroundings until she felt the gentle touch of a hand as is trailed  
lightly down her stomach. She reached out and forced the  
mysterious intruder into her view and gasped as she looked down  
at herself. But how was that possible, how could she be face to  
face with wait she wasn't face to face, she was looking down at  
herself an arms length away; a very long arms length away with  
large, strong hands that held the other Scully's shoulders. Oh my  
God, this wasn't possible, the vision unfolding before her wasn't  
hers, it was Mulder's!   
  
She watched unable to stop the scene that flashed before her,  
able to feel every sensation as her own heart began to race. She  
felt the kisses that lovingly traced a line down his chest, past his  
quivering stomach until she gasped from the liquid heat that  
raced through her veins through Mulder's veins.   
  
He watched in amazement as his partner fell into some sort of  
euphoric trance, her chest rising and falling as she gasped for air.   
Panic filled his heart watching her, unaware of what was taking  
place, seeing her pain as her body writhed and tensed with  
enough force to close the door that she still leaned on. Then it  
occurred to him that it was not pain that coursed through her  
body but ecstasy, and he grew angry with himself for the arousal  
that started to grow within him at the sight of her.  
  
As quickly as it had begun it ended and Scully gasped back to  
consciousness, her eyes open wildly taking in her surroundings,  
her breathing still fast and unsteady. Confused and disoriented  
she looked from the goddess to Mulder and then back to the  
goddess again, unsure of what to say, her mind searching for an  
explanation that she already knew.  
  
The strange woman took her into her arms to soothe her, "I told  
you Dana, he was with you." She held Scully for a few moments  
more until her shaking stopped, ignoring the terrified and  
anticipating look on Mulder's face. When she had given Scully  
enough time to compose herself, she took her hand and led her  
like a child to where her partner waited on the brink of fear and  
desire.  
  
"Scully, I " he began but stopped short unsure of what to say.  
  
"It's ok, Fox," Aphrodite smiled, "she already knows."  
  
She took Scully's small hand and placed it in Mulder's, holding  
them together with her own until she had completed her task.   
"Fox, I told you there was much for you to learn, and much for  
me to tell you. The answers you both seek can be found in one  
kiss." and with those final words she nudged him closer to his  
partner.  
  
He stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity, searching  
her face for an indication of what she was thinking in response to  
all she had just learned. Slowly and carefully, he leaned down to  
her, his eyes never leaving hers, allowing her enough time and  
room for escape.   
  
It started with a soft kiss, a mere brush of their lips together, each  
one touching and tasting the other. She shivered at his touch and  
his passion climbed with each barely audible moan that escaped  
her warm, moist lips until he pulled her tightly into his arms  
tangling his fingers in her auburn hair. She hungrily accepted his  
tongue as it explored her slightly open mouth and they were lost  
in the power of this kiss, the final act of the goddess' plan.  
  
An unexplainable surge of energy filled their bodies, forcing  
their mouths apart as they cried out from the intensity, and much  
like Scully's encounter a few minutes before, they found  
themselves lost in visions and memories that were not their own.   
The scenes rapidly passed before them as they each heard the  
voice of the other echoing secret thoughts and desires of the last  
seven years.   
  
Mulder could see his partner in his office the day they met. "The  
answer is there, YOU just have to know where to look for it!"  
she had said with conviction. But what he hadn't seen was the  
exhilarated smile of a schoolgirl as he turned away from her as  
she delighted in the banter, having held her ground with him,  
intrigued by his brilliance and quite taken with his good looks  
and witty charm. He remembered his words "Do you believe in  
the existence of extraterrestrials?" if he had only known then that  
he had caused her heart to skip a beat with his sultry cynicism.  
  
He saw her again as she came to his room in the dark of the  
storm, her fear far outweighing her modesty. She had been too  
afraid in those moments to see the way he looked at her as she  
dropped the robe that covered her body, or consider the thoughts  
that were stirred in him at the site of her. And she, unaware of  
his desire, had thrown herself into his un-expectant arms, too  
relieved to notice the pleasure of the moment reflected on his  
face.  
  
She remembered a restaurant in a small town where he had  
gently wiped something from her mouth, and now she saw  
herself in the same beauty that had captured his heart at that  
moment.  
  
For the first time she saw his desperate search for her after the  
abduction. She knew that he had searched for her but was  
unaware that it was at the sacrifice of sleep and other  
assignments nor did she know that her cross had hung around his  
neck as a constant reminder of the love that grew in his heart.   
She had never known that his pain had been so great or his  
determination so strong.  
  
The memories flooded their minds faster and faster as passing  
glances, innocent touches, and random thoughts and words  
flashed between them. The relived near kisses and growing  
desire that had been a very real part of the last seven years, but  
more than that was the deep rooted love that had blossomed long  
ago.  
  
The most powerful scene came when Scully saw herself pale and  
near death, asleep from exhaustion in the hospital during the  
final stages of her cancer treatment. The memories of that time  
in her life were painfully enough, and were now intensified by a  
broken Mulder kneeling at her bedside, pure agony escaping his  
body in sobs that shook his body.   
  
The emotions from this last and most powerful memory came  
crashing down upon them with enough force to return them to  
the present and to the moment at hand. He looked down at the  
face that was as familiar to him as his own having studied every  
detail over the years. The tears that slid down her cheeks were  
brushed away by his loving hand, even as his own tears joined in  
the release.  
  
It was he that spoke first. "Scully Dana, I've loved you since  
the first moment I saw you, maybe even before." His hands  
lightly cupped her face, needing to see her expression as he said  
the words he had silenced for so long. "You gave my life  
meaning and rescued me from the darkness that surrounded me,  
and I love you more than any words can possibly express."  
  
"I already know the words," she smiled at him through the tears  
that still glistened in her eyes. "Thanks to where did she go?"  
  
They scanned the room and saw the open window, the obvious  
origin of her departure. Having finished the work she had set  
about to do, her exit was as mysterious as her entrance. The only  
evidence that she had been there at all, besides their encounter,  
was a perfect white rosebud that lay on the outside windowsill as  
he went to close it. He picked it up and turned it slowly in his  
fingers studying its flawless beauty, a smile slowly growing at  
the corners of his mouth.  
  
He returned to where she waited for him and offered her the  
souvenir, "Here, Scully, a little bird told me this was for you."   
His words were sealed with a chivalrous kiss to her hand, to  
which she responded with a shy smile that melted his heart.  
  
"Scully, we should talk." he said, again turning serious. "How  
about we go get something to eat. Are you hungry?"  
  
"How about coffee?" she replied. "I'm still working on a hotdog  
from lunch."  
  
"Fair enough, coffee it is."  
  
"And, Mulder, you may want to change into something a little  
more appropriate for public viewing." she suggested jokingly, as  
they both looked down at the towel still wrapped around his  
waist.   
  
He shook his head in agreement, a slight chuckle escaping him,  
and turned back down the hallway to dress. "Not that I mind the  
view." she called after him.  
  
Stunned at the frankness of her words, he stopped and turned to  
face her, a devilish smile on his handsome face. "Oh yeah? You  
think this is good, just wait 'til later!"  
  
With that he turned quickly on his heel and headed again towards  
his room, her face quickly deepening more to the color of her  
hair.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
-- Office of A.D. Walter Skinner, F.B.I. Headquarters --  
Monday 11:40 am  
  
"So Agents, I am to understand by your reports that there was no  
case here, despite the eyewitness accounts that a painting was  
"altered" with apparent explanation?"  
  
"Not that we can find, Sir." Mulder answered. "The painting  
remains intact on the far wall of the West Wing and the museum  
officials have verified its authenticity. We met with Mr. Collins  
yesterday afternoon after he called me and checked it out for  
ourselves."  
  
"Was it or was it not the same painting that you saw Friday,  
Agent Mulder?" Skinner's eyes carefully scrutinized the two  
agents as he waited for a response.  
  
It was Scully who spoke this time. "It was in fact slightly  
different than when we saw it initially the other day, however, it  
does perfectly match the photograph in Mr. Collins' file.   
  
They sat in silence as their stern superior scanned the reports  
again. "So it is your findings that this was an orchestrated  
scheme by someone in the curator's office?"  
  
"We don't know who orchestrated this, or how for that matter,"  
Mulder answered, "but, it was most certainly a hoax. A practical  
joke possibly if you will."  
  
Skinner looked from partner to partner, watching closely as  
Scully's eyes darted from making contact with his on each pass.   
"You concur with these findings, Agent Scully?"  
  
Her eyes shot up and locked with the Assistant Directors', aware  
of the same tell tale signs of lying that he was searching for.   
"Yes, Sir. It's all been documented in my report."  
  
He sat in silence, his eyes still locked with hers, and she dared  
not even blink under his assessment of her and the situation, for  
fear that he would question the validity of her statements. She  
had decided with Mulder that same night what must be told, both  
for the integrity of their mental stability as well as for their  
secrecy.  
  
"Very well." he concluded. "That will be all." Not waiting for  
any further discussion he picked up the receiver of his phone and  
began dialing, moving on to the next issue at hand as a very  
relieved Mulder and Scully left the office.   
  
Skinner watched as Mulder's hand lingered slightly longer than  
usual at his partner's lower back, followed a second later by the  
closing of the door. At the tone the time will be 11:57  
and echoed from the phone as he returned the receiver to its  
cradle he worked to piece together the truth. Much to his delight  
and alarm, it was easily to determine the outcome. In a world  
where the walls didn't have ears and evil didn't lurk around  
every turn, he knew that they were meant for each other. But in  
this world their new found relationship could cost them their  
lives, and he knew that he would have to protect them now more  
than ever before.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
"So, do you think he knows?" Scully asked as they proceeded  
down the busy hallway.  
  
"How could he possibly know anything, now look who's being  
paranoid!" was his response, but secretly he harbored the same  
fear.  
  
"I'm hungry, Mulder, what do you want for lunch?" The look he  
responded with was practically evil and purely of lust. "Sorry I  
asked!" she said sheepishly as they reached the elevators.  
  
"I need to run pick something up at the lab, I'll catch up with you  
in a minute." he said as the doors open and she stepped inside.   
She nodded but her eyes were on a far off place, a faint smile on  
her beautiful face.  
  
"Hey, Scully, a penny for your thoughts." and her eyes found his  
as her smile spread as it grew from her heart. "Oh yeah, that's  
right. I already have them." he smiled back, just before the doors  
closed.  
  
  
Fin  



End file.
